Just Turn the Page
I recently finished the rough draft of my newest Christian fantasy novel—a milestone worth celebrating, especially considering the brain fog I often battle. As I worked through the manuscript, I became increasingly aware of one particular writing technique that keeps readers engaged: the chapter-ending hook.
You know what I'm talking about. That dramatic moment where the protagonist discovers something shocking, finds himself in peril, or makes a heart-stopping decision... and then—the chapter ends. Just like that!
It's delightfully devious, really. I've deliberately placed my readers in emotional suspense. Sometimes they're worried for a character's safety. Other times, they're frustrated by a character's poor choice. Occasionally, they're heartbroken by an unexpected betrayal. But regardless of the emotion, the effect is the same. They simply must turn the page to discover what happens next.
Hidden in Plain Sight
Several months ago, I wrote a devotion about the disappearance of Tess' beloved toy, Robby the Robot. The poor pup was beside herself with worry over her missing companion, and despite our thorough searches, Robby remained elusive. We eventually concluded she must have taken it outside and lost it in the bushes and bramble.
A couple of days ago, I was sitting in the dining room when Tess came in and began pawing frantically under the bookshelf. She stretched and reached as if trying desperately to recover something trapped beneath. My first thought? Kibble. If you've ever seen a terrier play with a treat-dispensing toy, you know food goes flying in all directions.
I grabbed my duster with the extended handle and poked under the bookshelf. Yes, there was kibble under there, but that wasn't all.
When the Thorn Remains
The garden outside our Welsh cottage is small but lovely. However, interspersed among the beauty are thorns. Nasty, prickly thorns that seem to appear from nowhere and everywhere all at once.
A few days ago, Tess came bounding into the house from her garden adventures, but instead of her usual exuberance, she limped across the floor, frantically licking her front paw. Jason scooped her up immediately, cradling her like a baby to examine the source of her distress.
"There it is," he announced, pointing to an enormous thorn embedded deeply in the pad of her paw. "This is going to hurt, girl."
As if understanding his words, Tess began to squirm and whimper, but Jason held her firmly. With one swift movement, he extracted the thorn. Tess yelped, then immediately relaxed in his arms.
Finding God in Lost Things
Have you ever lost something and searched everywhere, only to come up empty-handed? That's exactly what happened with my dog's favorite toy, Robby the Robot. This wasn't just any toy. It was a clever little contraption that would roll and wobble around, dispensing treats as it went. Tess adored it, probably because it combined two of her greatest loves: play and food.
But one day, Robby mysteriously vanished. At first, I wasn't too concerned. Tess has a habit of rolling and batting her toys into the oddest places, so I assumed he'd turn up eventually. However, as days turned into weeks, I became increasingly determined to solve the mystery of the missing robot.
I crawled on my hands and knees, peering under every piece of furniture. I checked behind bookcases, inside cupboards, and even among the many boots and shoes by the door.
